


New York 1988: One Offs

by December1983



Series: New York 1988 Collection [2]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Call me by your name fix it, Domestic Fluff, Elio loves Oliver and his boys, M/M, Oliver is divorced and has kids, dad!Elio, dad!Oliver, reunited five years later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:15:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27832867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/December1983/pseuds/December1983
Summary: A series of one off short stories as a follow-up to New York 1988. After reuniting in the Summer of 1988, Elio and Oliver start a life together in New York with Oliver's young sons Simon and Noah.
Relationships: Oliver & Elio Perlman, Oliver/Elio Perlman
Series: New York 1988 Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037139
Comments: 35
Kudos: 107





	1. Running Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver runs home to his family after working late.

Oliver left campus as quickly as he politely could. He had been asked by the chair of the philosophy department to moderate a panel discussion of visiting scholars that evening, and he couldn’t say no. He knew the other professors were going out for drinks after and that would be a good opportunity to strengthen those connections, but he could only think about going home to Elio and the boys.

As dedicated as Oliver was to his academic career, nights and weekends were for his family. It was as much a matter of principle as of need. After a day away from Elio, he needed him. The time he had with Simon and Noah was already so limited that it was a lot to sacrifice even one night with them.

He knew if he ran fast enough, he could get home before Elio put them to sleep.

“We’re in here!” Elio shouted down the hall as soon as Oliver closed the door to their apartment and dropped his stuff. He removed his coat and suit jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and quickly made his way to the bathroom where he found the boys in the tub and Elio sitting on the floor in front of it.

“Daddy, look!” Simon yelled, pointing to his own hair, which had been formed into a mohawk with shampoo.

Oliver grinned and took a seat on the floor. “Did you do that?” he asked Elio as he leaned in for a kiss.

“Yes.” Elio answered. “You want one too?”

“I don’t think it would look as cool on me.” Oliver replied, splashing Simon, who beamed back at him.

Oliver washed Noah’s hair while Elio rinsed the shampoo out of Simon’s. The boys would often fight getting in the tub, but then they never wanted to get out until their fingers were wrinkled like prunes.

Noah wiggled in Oliver’s arms when he picked him up with a towel, but he quickly calmed down. It was a little after his normal bedtime and he was starting to fade.

The way they typically divided responsibilities was that Oliver took the lead with Simon in the morning, while Elio handled Noah. Before bed was Oliver’s special time with Noah. He’d get him dressed in his pajamas and then sit on the rocking chair in the boys’ room or walk around with Noah in his arms.

He could hear Simon and Elio’s conversation as Elio got him ready for bed and they sat down to read bedtime stories. This was _their_ special time together and Oliver loved to hear pieces of it. Sometimes he would put Noah in his crib as soon as he fell asleep, so he could rush to join Simon and Elio, and sometimes he would hold him a little longer just to have more time with his baby boy.

Elio always commented on how small Noah looked in Oliver’s arms and he felt that way now. He was getting bigger fast, but he was still just a baby, who gladly accepted all the love and attention they gave him.

Oliver waited until he was sure Noah was asleep and then he kissed the top of his head before gently placing him in his crib. He watched him for a while longer before joining Simon and Elio.

Simon had finally moved on from his train book to a new book the Perlman’s had given him. It was about a boy who lost his dog and had to go around town looking for him. He insisted that Elio and Oliver act out the different townspeople, while he read the lines of the boy. He had needed their help the first several times, but now he practically had the book memorized. Oliver sometimes saw him mouthing along as Elio played the part of the mailman or Oliver, the firefighter.

They made it through two more books before Simon fell asleep against Elio’s shoulder. Oliver picked him up and carried him to his bed. He heard Elio snicker behind him when Simon woke up just enough to mumble that he wasn’t tired. Oliver put him down on his bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. He kissed his cheek and watched him sleep for a moment before turning on the night light and closing the door to the boys’ room.

He found Elio in the kitchen putting away some dishes and walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around him, pressing his lips to the back of his neck. “Hi, baby.”

“Hey.” Elio replied. “We missed you tonight.”

“How did things go?”

“Simon didn’t want to eat his vegetables, and Noah had a meltdown after dinner, but otherwise good.”

Oliver chuckled and kissed Elio’s cheek. “I know you don’t like me thanking you for taking care of the boys, but it’s so good knowing you’re with them and I can come home to you all at the end of the night. I’ll never take that for granted.”

“Good.” Elio said, turning around in his arms. “You want some wine? I was thinking of opening a bottle.”

“I’ll get it.” Oliver said, pushing Elio toward the couch with a pat to his ass. “Put your feet up, baby.”

Oliver poured two glasses of red wine and joined Elio on the couch. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes until Oliver opened his mouth to speak.

“You better not say what I think you’re going to say.” Elio interrupted.

“What?” Oliver asked.

“Elio, wouldn’t you rather be out dancing on tables with people your own age?” He said in his mock Oliver voice.

“Dancing on tables?” Oliver asked.

“Or whatever you think young people do. You’re always acting like you’re 100 years old and I’m stuck here with you. You’re 29 and gorgeous and I love you, you idiot.”

Oliver fought his smile. “I was just going to say I like your socks.”

“Liar!”

“Baby . . . .” Oliver started, “I don’t know, you’re so young and I’m so . . . .”

“Don’t say _old_.” Elio warned.

“ _Boring_.” Oliver said. “I know I seemed interesting and mysterious when you were 17, but I’m boring. I can’t even blame being a dad, because I was always like this, though I used to be able to stay awake past 10pm.”

“Oliver . . . .” Elio said, taking both of their wine glasses and setting them down on the coffee table before he slung one leg across Oliver’s hips, so he was straddling him. He didn’t know what Elio was going to say, but he liked when he took this tone with him.

Elio held his face in both his hands and said, “I don’t know what’s happening in that beautiful brain of yours when you get like this.”

“Like what?” Oliver asked.

“Convincing yourself I’d rather be somewhere else.” Elio answered. “Making yourself believe that if I didn’t have you and the boys, I’d be out partying every night instead of sitting alone in my room at Edna’s.”

Elio leaned in so their foreheads were pressed together. “You and I are just the same. You know that.”

Oliver closed the small distance and gave a quick kiss to Elio’s lips before smiling against them. “I just forget sometimes.”

“I’ll always remind you.”

It was a sweet moment until Oliver suddenly attacked Elio’s sides to tickle him. He tried to fight back, but quickly realized it was useless. “Stop,” he said between breathless laughs. Finally, he collapsed against Oliver and mumbled, “I hate you,” into his neck.

“I don’t think so,” Oliver said with a smile, soothing his hands over the same spots he’d just tickled. “I think you love me very much. It’s almost embarrassing.”

“For you or me?” Elio asked.

“Both of us.”

Elio giggled into his neck and then pulled away quickly and climbed to his feet. He bit his lip as he held his hand out to Oliver. They stared at each other for a moment before Oliver took it and followed Elio to their bedroom.

Elio silently instructed him to sit down on the bed and then closed the door. He climbed back onto Oliver’s lap and said, “You’re going to have to be very quiet.”

Oliver didn’t respond. He just stared up at his boyfriend in awe. This was a familiar scene, but this time it struck Oliver how mature Elio looked. Still youthful and happy, but grown up and confident.

“I love you,” Oliver finally said.

Elio smiled and tipped Oliver’s chin up a little more so he could kiss him. They made out for a while before Elio started grinding his hips. Oliver tried to let Elio dictate their next steps, but he finally grew impatient and slipped his hand under Elio’s shirt to feel his soft skin and then dipped his fingertips under the wasteland of Elio’s sweats.

When Elio stood up, he whined, “El-, baby?” How many times had they done this and he still felt like Elio could slip through his fingers.

Elio leaned in for a reassuring kiss and then picked up Oliver’s right arm and started rolling down his sleeve. Then the left. Next he started unbuttoning Oliver’s dress shirt. Once he removed it, he lifted Oliver’s undershirt over his head. His movements were so slow and methodical that Oliver felt hypnotized by them.

He unbuckled Oliver’s pants and had him stand up, so he could push them down along with his boxers. Elio then pushed Oliver’s shoulders to get him to sit back down and scoot back on the bed, so his back was against the headboard. Once Elio had removed his own clothes, he grabbed the lube from the bedside table and climbed across the bed to Oliver.

“You feel so good,” Elio said as he slid down on him. Oliver tightened his arms around Elio’s back and pulled him down for a kiss. This was one of their favorite positions, because it felt so intimate, but they could be quiet. Oliver got lost in the movement and muffled his moans by pressed his lips against Elio’s shoulder.

They didn’t have the luxury of time, so they came quickly. Oliver loved the way that Elio sagged against him as he came down from his orgasm.

Oliver finally lifted Elio up and laid him down on the bed. He gave him a quick kiss before getting up and pulling on his boxers and walking out into the apartment. He checked on the boys, who were both sleeping soundly. Cleaned up their wine glasses. Then did his normal routine of turning off the lights, checking that the front door was locked, and adjusting the thermostat.

He climbed back in bed with Elio and asked, “You asleep, angel?”

Elio didn’t answer, but he turned around and snuggled up to Oliver. After a moment, he pulled back his head and looked up at Oliver to ask, “You remember when we sat out on the gate to the villa?”

“Yeah,” Oliver replied.

“You told me you’d sit out there for hours every night. That’s when I knew we were the same.”

Oliver smiled into the dark of their bedroom. He’d known almost immediately when he met Elio.


	2. Here I Am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first snow of 1989 . . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was originally setting this up for the final chapter of New York 1988, but it had to wait until 1989. :)

The first snow of the new year was a white blanket that covered the city. Simon begged to go outside and play, so Elio and his mom dressed both boys in their snowsuits and took them to the nearest park.

Oliver and Samuel had gone out earlier to grab coffee near Columbia. Samuel insisted on seeing Oliver’s office and visiting the library.

“Nella, will you make snow angels with me?” Simon asked, practically dragging Annella by the hand, impatient with their slow pace.

“I will if Elio will.” She answered.

“Ewio, pleeeease.” Simon begged.

“Of course, buddy.” Elio replied.

“Yay!” Simon yelled. “Nella, Ewio said he would.”

Annella chuckled. “Okay, then.”

In Elio’s arms, Noah held his little hands out to catch the snow, which was still slowly falling. He seemed just as mystified by it when they reached the park and Elio put him down in the soft white powder.

Noah had grown steadier on his feet, but he wasn’t used to the snow. He took several falls onto his butt, and finally settled for sitting still and patting at the snow with his mitten hands. Occasionally he would hold up some of it and Annella would respond with amazement and he would giggle.

Elio was only watching out of the corner of his eye when Noah climbed to his feet again and took off. He was moving quickly when he suddenly fell face first into deep snow. Annella scooped him up immediately, which was usually all it took to avoid tears, but this time he was immediately crying at full volume.

His face was red and wet from the snow, which Annella tried to wipe off with her gloved hand, but that seemed to do little to comfort him. “Dada, dada . . .” he choked out between sobs.

Elio frowned and looked at his mom as he walked toward them. “He wants Oliver.”

“Dada, dada, dada . . . .” Noah wailed.

“He wants you, tesoro.” She handed him a crying Noah, and up close he could see a spot of red on his bottom lip.

“Mom, he’s bleeding.” Elio said. “He must have bit his lip when he fell. Poor baby.”

Annella stood close as they both tried to get a better look at Noah’s face as he continued to cry.Elio turned suddenly and scanned the area to make sure he knew where Simon was and found his standing still and staring at them.

Elio knew that none of his normal tricks were going to work to calm Noah down, so he hugged him tighter to himself and said, “I think I better take him home. Simon, do you want to keep playing?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Okay. Be good for my mom, alright?” He said, putting on a smile, though Noah was still crying loudly.

“We’ll stay and have some fun.” Annella said. “You take care of Noah.”

Elio nodded at his mom and gave Simon a last reassuring smile before starting the short walk home. Noah continued to cry most of the way, and Elio avoided making eye contact with the people they passed. By the time he reached their building, Noah had mostly cried himself out and was making more of a whimpering sound, like he didn’t have enough energy left to cry, but he was still upset.

In the elevator, Elio finally readjusted Noah on his hip and pulled back the hood of his snowsuit, so he could see his face clearly. It was still red and a few snowflakes remained in his eyelashes despite how much he had cried. Elio was relieved that the spot of blood on his lip hadn’t expanded.

Noah was prone to occasional meltdowns, especially now that he so often seemed frustrated that they didn’t understand what he was trying to communicate. But Elio had never seen him look quit this miserable.

His first priority when they walked into the apartment was to get Noah out of his snowsuit. Somehow in his fall, snow had gotten in and was dripping down the back of his neck. “Poor baby,” Elio repeated as he pulled the wet layers of clothing off of him.

He also saw that Noah’s diaper needed to be changed. When Elio put him down on the changing table, he tried to fight, but was too exhausted. “Dada,” he whimpered until Elio got him changed and picked him up again. Realizing he was still wearing his own coat, he struggled his way out of it one arm at a time as he held Noah.

Elio took him to the bathroom next and ran a washcloth under warm water before wiping the tear stains from Noah’s face. He still looked unhappy, but tolerated this. He was more upset when Elio cleaned the small bite wound on his lip.

It was late morning and not quite Noah’s normal nap time, but Elio thought he might be tired enough to sleep. He didn’t regularly take a bottle anymore, but sometimes when he was fussy, Oliver would give him some warm milk in a bottle to soothe him to sleep.

Elio knew better than to try to put him down again, but he could prepare a bottle so much faster with the use of both of his hands, so he put Noah into his high chair and raced around the kitchen pulling out the bottle and milk. Noah was crying again and screaming “Dada” by the time he’d put the milk in the microwave to heat.

Elio scooped him up and hugged him tight and his cries slowly reduced to whimpers again. He kissed the top of Noah’s head and danced around the kitchen with him in his arms until the milk was done. Making a mess, he managed to finish prepping the bottle with one hand.

“Here we go,” Elio said as they made their way to his and Oliver’s bedroom. He rested against the headboard and cradled Noah in his arms. He took to the bottle immediately, bringing his little hands up to hold it. He whined once when the bottle hit the small bite on his lip, but Elio quickly found a better angle.

Noah’s face and body slowly relaxed. He stared up at Elio for a while until his eyes started to close. He looked so much like the baby he was. Oliver had said once that Noah wouldn’t remember a time when Elio wasn’t there. Simon either. And that made Elio emotional as he watched his baby drift slowly to sleep.

Elio wasn’t sure how long he had watched Noah sleep before he heard the front door open and there was a burst of noise and what sounded like four people talking at once. He smiled as he heard Simon down the hall telling Samuel every detail of how he played in the snow.

He didn’t hear Oliver until he looked up and saw him leaning against the doorway to their bedroom. “Hey, dada.” He said in his deep voice.

“She told you?” Elio asked.

“Simon did. We ran into them on the way into the building.” He sat down on the bed in front of Elio and peered down at Noah. Elio didn’t know what to say, but Oliver seemed to read his mind. “You take care of them every day, baby. I’m sure it’s not even the first time, is it?”

“No, he’s said it a few times before, but I always told myself he was calling for you.”

“How do you feel?” Oliver asked.

Elio smiled. “Like I want more.”

Oliver chuckled quietly and leaned in to give Elio a quick kiss. “Hope you’re not just saying that.”

“No.”

“Okay, then.” Oliver winked. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Ewio,” came a small voice from behind Oliver. “Is Nohy okay?”

Elio motioned for Simon to come closer and take a look. “He’s okay. He just fell and bit his lip. Did you have fun at the park? Did you make snow angels?”

“Yeah,” Simon said. “Nella and I did.”

“Will you go back with me tomorrow, so we can do it together?” Elio asked.

Simon nodded vigorously and giggled when Oliver wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into his lap. “What about me?”

“You too, daddy.” Simon responded. “Yours will be the biggest.”

“Good,” Oliver said, kissing his son on the cheek.

They were all quiet for a moment and then Simon asked tentatively, “What Nohy called you at the park . . . is that okay?”

Elio was not prepared at all for this conversation. He looked up and saw Oliver grinning at him from behind Simon’s head.

“Yes,” Elio answered. “Is it okay with you?”

“Yeah,” Simon said. There was obviously more he wanted to say, but he went quiet.

“I love that you call me _Ewio_.” He loved it so much that he had never corrected his pronunciation and neither had Oliver. “You don’t have to change anything unless you decide that you want to, okay?”

“Okay.” Simon said, and then changing the subject. “Nella got me hot tocholate after the park!”

Elio laughed at his enthusiasm. “Was it good?”

He nodded vigorously again and then hopped off of Oliver’s lap and went running down the hall to the living room.

Oliver stood up and leaned in for another quick kiss. “You did good, baby. I better go give your parents a break.”

Elio looked down at Noah, who had barely stirred through all of that.

Next to appear in the doorway was his dad, who smiled and said, “Elly, you’re a natural.”

Elio smiled back as his dad took a seat on the bed. “I don’t know if you’re surprised, but I am.”

“I always wanted this for you. A chance to be a father. If that’s what you wanted, of course. But I still think of you as _my_ baby, so I hadn’t let my mind wander quite this far.”

“I hadn’t either.” Elio responded. “I still can’t believe I’m here.”

“Right where you belong, it seems.” Samuel said with another smile.

“But you don’t believe that . . . that things happen for a reason?” Elio asked. He knew the answer.

“No,” Samuel said. “But I believe that life can be beautiful. It took a lot of courage for both of you to get here and some luck, but here you are.”

Noah squirmed a little in his arms and Elio looked down to see him purse his lips for a second and then relax back into sleep. “Here I am.”


	3. You're Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some dancing and a lot of domestic fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your kind comments. Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter done. More to come!

Elio was protective. He sometimes tried to hide it, like when Oliver would talk about his parents or his childhood. But Elio hadn’t been raised to hide his feelings, so it was obvious in the way his shoulders would tense and his nostrils would flare.

Oliver had mentioned this once in a conversation with Annella and she said he’d even been that way their first Summer. Though he was critical of Oliver himself, he didn’t like anyone else commenting on his “American manners” or even his movie star looks.

As they settled into a new life together, he started to realize that Elio was not just protective, but somewhat possessive. He wanted to know the details of Oliver’s romantic history, but seemed to hold a grudge against everyone Oliver had ever dated, except for Rachel.

It concerned Oliver at first that Elio might feel jealous or insecure, but he quickly realized that Elio’s possessiveness was more playful than that. It seemed to be rooted in the same boldness he’d shown in pursuing Oliver in the first place. There was no doubt some part of him that wanted to publicly stake his claim in a way he hadn’t been able to before, but he’d usually do it with a wink.

That confidence made Oliver swoon, but he loved it just as much when Elio was shy about asking for what he wanted. If Rachel was to be believed, then Oliver could sometimes be somewhat . . . oblivious. In a mostly charming, but sometimes infuriating way. Unless he was paying close attention, he sometimes missed things.

Elio probably tried in more subtle ways to remind him of his promise to take him dancing, but finally he put in a Psychedelic Furs tape and blasted “Love My Way” in their living room. That got Oliver’s attention.

On the last Friday before the start of the new semester, Elio picked outfits for both of them and they headed for a club that Oliver had frequented when he first moved to the city. This was nothing like any of the previous trips he’d made there. He’d always gone to meet new people, but now he had his person, and making Elio happy was his only goal.

Despite having never been there before, Elio took the lead as soon as they made it into the club. It was loud and the lights were flashing. Elio took his hand and led him through the crowd to the bar. Somehow he got the attention of one of the bartenders and soon they had drinks.

Oliver liked to dance, loved to lose himself in the music, but he found that nearly impossible while sober. It was hard to blend into a crowd when you were head and shoulders taller than almost everyone. He didn’t like being the center of attention.

He didn’t have to explain this to Elio, who seemed to understand it innately. When they finally made it to the dance floor, Oliver was aware that they were surrounded by other people, but Elio somehow made it feel like it was just the two of them.

He made eye contact and didn’t let it go as he snaked his arms around Oliver’s neck and ran his hands through Oliver’s hair. Elio had been obsessed with touching his hair since he had convinced him a few days ago to get the sides shaved closer and leave it longer on top. It was a slightly edgier look that may raise a few eyebrows in the Philosophy Department at Columbia, but if it had this affect on Elio, then it was worth it.

They took breaks periodically and hung out at the bar for a while. It was too loud to talk, but they both enjoyed people watching. Oliver had never felt completely comfortable in gay clubs before, but it felt very different to be here with his boyfriend. Even though they mostly kept to themselves, and he felt Elio grip him a little tighter whenever anyone got too close or stared too long, he felt like part of the community in a way he hadn’t before.

Oliver didn’t realize how drunk they both were until they were making out on the dance floor.Usually when they went out, he tried to leave it up to Elio to decide when it was time to leave. It was true he was the first one to fall asleep on the couch every night, but on the rare occasions they were out late, Oliver didn’t want Elio to feel like he was slowing him down. It was futile, because Elio would always see he was tired and take him home, but he wanted Elio to know he could stay out late and act his age.

Tonight, though, he wasn’t sure he could rely on Elio to make the decisions. He whined the second Oliver pulled back from the kiss and stared up at him with a glassy-eyed look of love that reminded Oliver of their time in Bergamo.

“You ready to go home?” Oliver asked.

Elio didn’t really answer. Just stared at him. So Oliver took his hand and led him through the club. Stepping out on the cold streets of New York sobered Oliver up quickly, but didn’t seem to have the same effect on Elio.

As they waited for the train, Elio kept trying to wrap his arms around Oliver’s neck and lean in for a kiss.

“Baby,” Oliver said gently, taking hold of his wrists and pulling them down. “We can’t do that here. You have to wait until we get home.”

Elio nodded and gave him an earnest look like he was trying his best to follow instructions. Once they were on the train, Elio took a seat next to him and held his hands in his lap and stared at Oliver.

Oliver could only grin and shake his head. There was probably no point in trying to be discreet. Anyone looking closely could see they were in love. Elio’s face didn’t hide anything and Oliver’s smile didn’t either.

They made it as far as the elevator of their building before Oliver opened his arms and Elio walked into them, pressing his face against Oliver’s chest before tilting it up for a kiss. As the doors closed, Oliver kissed him.

Elio had taken the lead all night, but Oliver had gotten them home. Now he set about getting them to bed, ushering Elio into the kitchen for some water and then into the bathroom to quickly shower and brush their teeth. He climbed into bed and folded back the covers on Elio’s side, so he could join them. Instead Elio climbed up the bed until he was resting completely on top of Oliver.

Oliver couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, is that where you want to be?”

“Yeah,” Elio mumbled, pushing his face into the space between Oliver’s neck and shoulder.

Oliver skimmed his fingers over Elio’s back and kissed his shoulder. “Did you have fun tonight?”

Elio nodded into him. “Thank you,” he said, lifting his head. “I’ve always wanted to go dancing with you.”

“We can go anytime you want.” Oliver said.

“You didn’t hate it?” Elio asked.

“No. I just get a little self-conscious and feel like everyone is staring at me. The vodka helped.”

Elio laughed, and the tone of it told Oliver he was finally beginning to sober up as well. “People were looking at you because you’re . . . _you_.”

“What does _that_ mean?” Oliver asked.

“You know.” Elio replied.

Oliver smiled. “They could see I’m yours.”

“Mmmm . . .” Elio hummed.

“Can I have a kiss?” Oliver asked.

Elio grinned and leaned in closer.

“Baby . . . ?” Oliver said when they pulled apart, taking a moment to brush Elio curls back from his face. Even after a recent haircut, they were still long enough to tuck behind Elio’s ears. “If I hadn’t come to Italy this Summer, when you moved to New York, would you have . . . ? Would you have called or come to see me?”

Elio looked thoughtful for a moment. Oliver had asked this question before and Elio had dodged it. He didn’t like to think of scenarios where they weren’t together. Oliver didn’t either, but tonight he had started to wonder.

“I thought about if I would,” Elio said. “I wasn’t sure if I should even come here, because . . . . But, I’d always wanted to live in New York. I thought you were married, soI . . . .” Elio looked away for a second, seemingly frustrated that he couldn’t seem to finish a sentence.

“I don’t know, Oliver. I didn’t want to get hurt again. Wasn’t sure I could see what I’d lost. But I would have looked for you around every corner. Eventually I would have asked my dad to tell you I was here and hope that you would come find me.”

Oliver smiled at that. “I would have.”

“How?” Elio asked. “I mean, what would you have done?”

“I’d want to be very cool. Run into you at a museum or bar. But I probably would have ended up begging Edna to let me see you.”

Elio giggled. “She would have let you in for tea.”

“Would you have turned me down the way you did in Crema?” Oliver asked.

“I didn’t last 24 hours!” Elio huffed.

Oliver smiled and leaned forward to kiss Elio’s lips. “I’m just teasing, baby. I would have waited a very long time. Just seeing you at the club made me wonder about things being different.”

“I don’t want to think about that.”

“No?” Oliver asked, still running his fingers up and down Elio’s back. “What if we met tonight at the club for the very first time?”

“Would you have danced with me?” Elio asked.

“With a little encouragement, yes.” Oliver answered.

“I would have given you my best ‘come hither’ look.” Elio said, waggling his eyebrows.

Oliver laughed. “I know you didn’t use that on the boys in Milan.”

“No, just you.” Elio replied, stifling a yawn to get the words out.

“Time for bed, baby. Rest up, because tomorrow I have a lot planned and almost none of it involves leaving this bed.

“ _Oliverrrr_.” Elio whined.

“Come on. You’re tired,” he said, moving Elio into position as his little spoon. “Sleep now and tomorrow . . . .”

Oliver woke up to the sound of Elio jumping off the bed and running down the hall to get the ringing phone. He tried to open his eyes, but it hurt. He tried to move, but it hurt. So he pulled the covers up over his head, which muffled the sound of Elio talking on the phone.

A few minutes later, he felt Elio climb back on the bed and then the comforter was slowly pulled down to reveal his smiling boyfriend.

“How are you smiling? You drank so much more than me.” Oliver said with a frown. “Never get old. It’s hell.”

“You’re not old,” Elio said. “Want me to make you some coffee?”

“Let’s go back to sleep.” Oliver grumbled.

“Rachel is going to be here in a few minutes with the boys. She had a client meeting come up. You get some more sleep, and I’ll take care of everything.”

“I’ll get up,” Oliver said, but made no attempt to move.

Elio laughed. “Rest! I’ll let you know when the coffee is ready.

Oliver drifted off for a couple minutes until he heard the door buzz and then again for a few minutes until he heard Rachel and Elio talking. He heard Simon ask where he was and Elio tell him to check on him in the bedroom. With that, Oliver finally managed to pull himself up to a sitting position.

“Hi, daddy.” Simon said unenthusiastically when he walked through the bedroom door. His shoulders were hunched and he was frowning. Oliver loved how dramatic his oldest could be.

“Hi, buddy. What’s wrong?”

“Mommy was gonna take me to the movies. The one with the dinosaurs. She _promised_. But now she hasta work.”

“I’m sorry.” Oliver groaned as he pulled himself the rest of the way up and swung his legs to the side of the bed. He motioned for Simon to come closer. His frown deepened, but he slowly shuffled closer and climbed into Oliver’s lap.

“Your mom has an important job and she works very hard, but you know there’s nothing she wants more than to spend time with you.”

“Yeah.” Simon mumbled.

“I know you’re disappointed, but she’ll make it up to you. She loves you so much.”

“I know, daddy.”

“Okay,” Oliver said.

“Coffee’s ready!” They heard Elio yell down the hall. And then, like an echo, Noah mimicked him with his own yell. Oliver bit back his smile when he heard Elio ask, “Oh, you want some coffee too?” and Noah giggle in response.

Simon still had a frown on his face, so Oliver held him and they sat in silence for a while longer. Finally, he asked, “I’m going to go get some coffee. Do you want to come with me?”

“Yeah,” Simon said and wrapped his arms around Oliver’s neck.

Oliver groaned as he rose to his feet.

“What’s wrong, daddy?” Simon asked.

“Elio and I went dancing last night. I’m just a little sore and . . . tired.”

“I want to go dancing,” Simon said. He didn’t like to be left out of anything.

“We went to a place that’s only for adults, but we can dance here sometime, okay?”

“‘kay.”

When they reached the kitchen, Elio poured Oliver a cup of coffee. “I’m making breakfast. Are you hungry, Simon?”

“No.”

“How about some juice?” Elio asked.

“Orange, please.” Simon said. Elio poured juice into his favorite sippy cup and handed it to Simon, who was still in Oliver’s arms.

“Simon is a little upset this morning, because his mom was going to take him to the movies.” Oliver told Elio.

Before Elio could reply, Simon said, “And daddy is tired because of dancing.”

Elio raised an eyebrow and looked at Oliver. “Is that right?” He asked before turning to Simon. “Do you want to help me make him a nice big breakfast so he feels better?”

“Can I wear what Nella got me?” Simon asked, handing Elio his empty juice cup. Annella had gotten him an apron he could wear when he helped her bake (and pretty much anything else she could spoil the boys with).

“Yes. I think it’s in your closet. Can you go find it?”

Oliver put Simon down and he went running to his room. He marveled at the way Elio seemed to know instinctually how to cheer Simon up. “Thank you, baby.” He said.

“Of course. Now go relax on the couch with your coffee.”

At that moment, Noah lifted his arms toward Oliver and said, “up!” It was his new favorite word. “Up!” he repeated until Oliver picked him up and took him to the couch. He was hoping for some quiet time with his snuggly baby boy, but Noah was wide awake and not still for long. He cried when Oliver wouldn’t let him stick his little fingers in his coffee, but was quickly distracted once he was on the floor with his blocks.

After a while, Noah became intrigued by what Elio and Simon were doing and kept toddling closer and closer to the kitchen until Oliver scooped him up again. He tried to give him a view of what was happening from a safe distance. “What’s dada doing?” He asked as Elio flipped a pancake. “Is he making breakfast?”

Noah pointed at Elio and then turned back to Oliver and grinned.

The big greasy breakfast Elio made seemed to be the hangover cure Oliver needed. He started to feel better almost instantly, but Elio still insisted he take it easy and relax. That was impossible with two active boys in the house, but finally they put Noah down for his nap and had some quiet time reading with Simon.

When the phone rang, this time Oliver jumped up to get it. He knew it would be Rachel.

“Oliver! I’m just wrapping things up right now and will be there in 20 minutes. Thank you for taking the boys.”

“Of course,” Oliver said. “Hey, we just put Noah down for his nap, so what if you just pick Simon up and take him to the movies?”

Rachel was an expert at reading through the lines, and her immediate reaction was, “Shit, what did he say?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Oliver assured. “He was just disappointed about the movie, and I was thinking he might like some one on one time with you. No pressure or judgement or anything. We don’t mind keeping Noah this afternoon.”

He heard Rachel exhale on the other end of the line. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Fuck, this is just hard sometimes.”

Oliver had always appreciated Rachel’s honesty. “I know,” he said. “Elio and I are always here, you know? And we can help. We’re not up to much today, anyway. I woke up too hungover to move.”

Rachel laughed. “Well, Elio seemed cheerful.”

“Ah, to be young again.” Oliver replied.

“Hey, we’re still young!” She said.

“You are.”

“I’m two months older than you, Oliver.”

“I know, but I’ve always been old.”

“That’s . . . true,” she laughed. “Okay, I’ll be there soon. Thank you.”

Elio and Oliver spent a quiet afternoon at home, cleaning the apartment, catching up on laundry, and entertaining Noah once he woke up. It wasn’t the day they planned, but Oliver was happy.

\+ + +

When the new semester began on Monday, it felt at first like a rude awakening. Oliver had not been apart from Elio for more than a few hours at a time in the month they’d both had off, and now they were back to going their separate ways all day.

It was going to be a busy semester, because Oliver was covering one of his colleague Jennifer’s intro classes while she was out on maternity leave. That was in addition to his own intro class and a senior seminar he was teaching. He also had a book to finish, which he had largely ignored during his time off. He found himself dreading all the work ahead until he was back in his office and then he was excited to get started.

Elio said he wanted to be more disciplined like Oliver, and get the bulk of his work done during the day, so he didn’t feel stressed or distracted at night or on the weekends, especially when they had the boys. The result was that they left the apartment together each morning before Elio went off to Juilliard and Oliver to Columbia.

Oliver usually dropped the boys off at preschool and daycare each morning, and they shared responsibility for picking them up. This new routine meant they would drop the boys off together.

“What are the preschool moms going to think?” Elio asked as he held Noah. Oliver was holding Simon’s hand.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think they know about us. The last time I dropped Simon off, the short blond one asked if I was Rachel’s assistant and said it was sad Rachel didn’t have the time to bring him herself.”

Oliver was surprised by that. The preschool moms usually praised him like a hero for being so “hands on,” dropping off his kids in the morning. “What did you say?” He asked Elio.

“Nothing, really. I didn’t know what to say.”

Simon wanted to take off with his friends the minute they reached his preschool. He gave Oliver a quick hug and then Elio, saying “By daddy. Bye Ewio!” before he took off running.

“Love you!” Elio shouted after him.

“Love you!” He replied without turning around again.

“Oliver!” He turned at the sound of his name and saw Susan, the preschool mom Elio had obviously been talking about, walking toward him. She was small and blonde and very put together in preppy clothes. “We haven’t seen you in a while. How were your holidays?”

“Wonderful. Thank you,” he said, looking for Elio, so they could leave. He was down on the floor retying one of Noah’s shoes.

“I was hoping to run into Rachel today. The bake sale is coming up, and I haven’t heard whether she’s planning to contribute. She’s probably too busy.”

“She is very busy. I don’t know how she juggles it all so well.” He said. “Hey, Susan. Have you met my boyfriend Elio? He’s a brilliant musician and grad student at Juilliard.” He gestured to Elio who was just standing up with Noah in his arms.

Elio looked surprised, but recovered quickly. “Hi,” he said to Susan, shifting Noah to his left hip, so he could give a small wave with his right as he stepped closer.

Susan did not react as quickly. If she had something to say, Oliver didn’t want to hear it, so he continued: “We better get going. I can make something for the bake sale. Cookies okay? When do you need them by?”

“The sale is Valentine’s Day,” she managed to get out.

“Wonderful! I’ll bring two dozen. Bye, Susan!” Oliver took Elio’s free hand and pulled him away.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Elio said quietly as they walked next door to the daycare to drop Noah off.

“I think I did,” Oliver said. “She needs to know you’re mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr: [December1983](https://december1983.tumblr.com/). Always happy to chat. :)


End file.
